


Love Hurts (Sometimes)

by meamshadow



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Hanahaki Disease, just some good ol' angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meamshadow/pseuds/meamshadow
Summary: For Aqua, in the A6 server!Thanks for letting me borrow (and hurt) Xander!
Relationships: Ryona Mi'haden/Traveler
Kudos: 5





	Love Hurts (Sometimes)

Something was wrong. He knew it when he woke up today. The whole world felt… off, somehow. He’d ambled through his day, completing his routine tasks as he always did, with this tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain. He found himself zoning out as he was having a conversation with Shiloh. She was talking about some pastries that she’d made him, and, though he enjoyed them, this sense of unease was niggling at the back of his mind. She kept glancing over his shoulder, unsettling him further. She was turning that same unease into slight paranoia. Looking at the reflections in her eyes gave nothing away. Something was wrong.  
After he’d asked her to make more of those pastries for him again, he excused himself. She skipped away, nothing heavy on her mind the way something was weighing down on his. His heart was telling him that nothing should be trusted, but his mind couldn’t find the issue. As his mind wandered, so did his feet, letting his thought process take him where it may. Eye scanning the faces of every traveler he passed, no one particularly stood out. Something was pushing at him to keep searching, to find what was forcing him to be so on edge. The need coiled in his chest uncomfortably, latching onto his fears and making his thoughts run wild. He considered stopping and asking someone, anyone, if they knew something he didn’t. But that felt just as strange. Surely he was just being paranoid. Surely nothing was wrong, and he was panicking for nothing. But that eerie feeling persisted. Something was _wrong._  
He stopped at the bridge, where he found it empty. _”Strange.”_ He thought, that nagging feeling digging deeper into his chest, not hurting, but tickling at his throat. It was unfamiliar, yet he knew that it could only be harmful. Rather than focus on that, he would go see Ryona, maybe she would know what was wrong. The hallways were empty. No travelers could be seen, not even the ones he knew he’d passed a short while ago. That sharp pain of paranoia hit again and he winced. _”Where has everyone gone?”_ was his next thought, panic forcing him to move faster, to see if he could find anyone. Something was _wrong._  
Stopping at the infirmary door, he panted from the exertion and coughed past the tickle in his throat. It hurt, but not anymore than the sight before him as the door opened. Ryona was sitting on the floor, ripping up something. This was so out of character for the gentle Tilaari, that Xander was taken aback. His nose caught the scent of gardenia, his favorite flower, but it was twisted, metallic. As he walked in, the face he was met with couldn’t have been further than the one on his own. Her normally soft features were twisted in rage, tears glistening in her eyes. _Something was wrong._  
“How _dare_ you show your face to me after what you did!” She shouts, throwing what he now recognizes as photos of the two of them together onto the ground. She’d taken scissors to some, ripped others with her hands. All mangled in some way, as if she couldn’t bear to even be in the same picture as him. It hurt, and his chest seemed like it was going to burst from all the pain.  
“After what I did?” He asked, voice small with hurt. He couldn’t help but cough to try and alleviate the tickle that still plagued him. He could taste his own blood in his mouth as he continued, “What did I do to you, Ryona?”  
“As if you don’t know, Xander.” She scoffed. “I can’t look at you right now.” She turns away, shoulders hunched and furious. “How am I supposed to trust you?” Xander took a step back, alarmed. Had he done something and not remembered? No, if it were this bad he had to have known when it happened. His hand clutched at his chest, another cough bubbling up, the taste of blood metallic and drowning out everything else.  
“Ryona, I-” and he doubles over, yet another cough tearing itself from his throat, blood spattering against the floor. Was that… a _flower_ petal he could see there? It looked suspiciously like a jasmine flower. ”Ryona’s favorite.” He murmured to himself. He couldn’t understand how it had made its way into his lungs, but he could feel the vines working their way through his body, surrounding his lungs and stealing his air. He gasped, before coughing again.  
“No need for words now, Xander. You don’t deserve to say anything more.” There’s a point digging into his back, but *everything hurts.* His heart, breaking, his lungs, burning, his head, aching. “Did you know that what you’re going through is called Hanahaki? An illness that affects those with unrequited love.” He couldn’t answer, head swimming. It all slid into place. She didn’t love him anymore. *That’s what was wrong.* It was all wrong.  
“I fell out of love with you, Xander.” She said, leaning in close to his ear so that there was no way he didn’t hear her. “While you were off spending time with Shiloh, Freya, and all your _other_ friends, I found someone who could spend time with me when you were unavailable.” His head and heart raced, so close to knowing why, but in such pain that he could do nothing but cough and uselessly try to fill his chest with air. She twisted the knife once, red hot pain blossoming once more in his back. “He loves me like you couldn’t.”  
“Why?” is the one word Xander gasped out, before reduced to another coughing fit, flowers and blood staining the floor yet again. He was losing strength in his arms, muscles twitching, struggling to keep himself propped up.  
“Why?” She laughed, twisting the blade once more, really digging it in to make a point. “Maybe I just wanted to hurt you, dear. Maybe you never deserved me and I only just realized it.” As Ryona kept talking, hurting him until he almost couldn’t take it anymore, his arms gave out, leaving him lying on the floor in his own blood.  
Eventually, she must have either put him out of his misery, or waited until he bled out. But as soon as he registered that he was dead, he woke up in a cold sweat. Heart rate skyrocketing, tangled in the sheets, covered in sweat. He couldn’t remember what had scared him so badly. A hand pressed against his chest where a phantom tightness was. Why couldn’t he remember? All he had to go off of was a sense of dread and this fear of not being able to breathe.  
“Dear, are you alright?” He hears a sleepy voice ask from his side. It’s Ryona beside him, and, much as he loves her, he feels a strange sense of fear alongside the usual burst of affection she normally gives him.  
“Just a nightmare, I think.” He croaks out, his throat dry. He blindly reaches for the glass of water that Ryona leaves by their bedside to sooth his aching throat. It helps, but not as much as he’d like. “I think I’m going to take a walk before I come back to bed.” He says softly. A kiss pressed to her brow as she hums an assent. Part of him fears that her eyes will snap open and he’ll be in pain but he shakes his head to dispel that thought. A walk will do him good.  
He thought about things, as he walked. Life aboard the ship, the people he’s come to know and love, the experiences he’s had. This nightmare kept tugging at him. Not one detail remembered. Something about it shook him to his core, like icy, winding vines in his chest. Better not to worry about that now. Rest was more important. As he made his way back to his room, there was a familiar tickle in his throat that he refused to acknowledge. He could hear the whirring of the ship’s engines, the distant sound of someone’s door opening. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. He wasn’t relaxed, per say, but as he opened the door again to his room, he felt a wave of exhaustion overtake him, and he fell asleep once more.  
Morning came, as it always did, and Xander awoke once more, no dream plaguing him. Ryona was nowhere to be seen, likely already up and working. His head hurt, likely from the scare he’d had the night before, and he figured he would go see Ryona to see if she could help. If not, he was always calmed by her presence. As he got dressed, placing his eyepatch carefully over his eye, he sighed. Something was in the back of his mind, begging to be known, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure it out.  
Walking back to the infirmary, he met the glances of the travelers on his way. Something was telling him that they were genuine smiles, happy waves and faces. He couldn’t recall a time when they weren’t, but something felt off and he couldn’t shake it. As he opened the door yet again, he caught a flash of anger, before being confused at his reaction. What was there to be angry about? Ryona was at her desk, tending to the plants that rest there.  
“Xander! How are you feeling?” She asked, smiling as he made his presence known. She set the small watering can down, away from her papers in the case that it dripped.  
“I’m okay, I would hope. Just a minor headache.” He answered, smiling back. “Have you had breakfast yet?” He asked, intending to have breakfast together, if she hadn’t.  
“I had breakfast with Bash this morning actually. Go on and eat without me, you probably need the nourishment.” She said, and Xander’s heart dropped a little.  
“That’s okay. I’ll see you later?” A note of sadness was in his voice that he didn’t conceal as well as he hoped, and he cursed inwardly. Something was pulling at him to stay with her, but his stomach rumbled. Off to find breakfast, then.  
The kitchen wasn’t too far from his current location, and making something seemed like the perfect way to keep himself busy for a bit. He looked in the fridge, seeing leftovers that he could just reheat, but making something was why he came to the kitchen in the first place. Grabbing the ingredients he needed for breakfast, he laid them out on the counter, all nice and neat. Opening drawers, he was looking for utensils to use, but those gremlins moved them around constantly and relentlessly, and never put things back in the right place. Finding a knife he deemed perfect for his task, he lifted it out of the drawer. His back had a sharp, phantom pain, startling him into dropping the knife. He had many quick flashes of memory all at once of being stabbed, and his own blood pooling on the floor beneath him, full of jasmine petals. That tickle was back again, and he swallowed, remembering what it was. *Hanahaki.* The illness of unrequited love. Not again. He wouldn’t go through that again. She loved him and he knew it. He leant to pick up the knife, and pushed the feeling down. He wasn’t going to let it affect him. His appetite was waning, but he had to have something. Throwing something together, he quickly ate and headed back to his room.  
_She loved him._ He had to remember that. He loved her, and they were happy, right? Changing his mind quickly, he almost ran to find Ryona. She was just leaving the infirmary, and seemed shocked to see him speeding towards her.  
“Xander wha-” She started, before Xander cut her off with a kiss, arm wrapping around her waist. She melted into it, and when he pulled away, she smiled. “That was unexpected, dear.”  
“I love you, Ryona. I hope you know that.” He declared, searching her eyes for that warmth he was scared was fading. She placed a hand on his face, giving him a gentler peck on the cheek.  
“Of course I love you, Xander.” And that tickle went away. No more flowers.


End file.
